


space for us to shake

by ang3lsh1



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Ballet, Canon Disabled Character, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Magneto's Terrible Fashion Sense, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2699414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lsh1/pseuds/ang3lsh1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven sends out a distress call to Charles, newly discharged from his service, to pick up his favourite nephew from his ballet class. Surely this won't be one of her match-making schemes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	space for us to shake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keire_ke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keire_ke/gifts).



> For **keire-ke** 's wonderful prompt of _Charles is a career military man who recently returned from overseas, possibly because of injury. Erik is a ballet dancer, who also teaches ballet to kids. Their first meeting has a chorus of tiny girls and boys, many of them in pink tutus (AKA the Tin Soldier AU)._
> 
> Title is from Kings of Convenience's [I'd rather dance with you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OczRpuGKTfY), this was also very heavily inspired by it.
> 
> Thank you so much to my beta, any remaining mistakes are my own.

“Oh shit, thank god you picked up, Charles!” Raven says hurriedly into the phone.

The panic in her voice almost sends Charles into a flurry of action before he remembers what his psychiatrist said and breaths instead of immediately reacting, “What’s wrong, Raven?”

“It’s nothing too big but I need a favour, something came up at the last minute with Irene and I'm held up here,” she must have muffled the phone, since Charles can hear Raven yelling in the background, something about not ruining the props, most likely at the backstage crew. 

“I really, really need you to help me get Kurt from his ballet class? I’ll text you the address but it’s not too far from your place. We should be home in a few hours, so if you could sit for us till we get back too?” Raven pleads, “Irene just made a batch of those brownies that you like so much this morning too.”

“You know I’d do anything for you, but I will hold you to those brownies,” the tight feeling in his chest loosens. “Besides, can’t think of a better way to spend all my free time than with my favourite nephew,” he teases.

“He’s your only nephew,” Raven must be rolling her eyes. “Thank you so much, Charles. I really have to go now!” He hears her yelling at the lighting crew again before the line cuts off.

Well. It’s not like Charles did have anything planned today, now that he’d been discharged from the military due to that IED taking out the convoy he was in, which led to him sustaining a lumbar fracture. He’s lucky enough to retain mobility of his legs, he might be afflicted with chronic pain now, but he knows his injuries could have been a lot worse. Besides the physiotherapy has helped him regain most of his mobility but there are days when the pain is so bad that all he wants to do is stay in bed forever.

A ping on his phone alerts him to a new message, cutting off his train of thought before it veers off towards wallowing. Deft swipes of his finger brings up the address of Kurt’s class. Raven was right, it’s not too far from his place. About two blocks in fact. 

Rather than face the prospect of sinking back into self-pity, Charles decides to get a head start. Maybe he’ll catch the tail end of Kurt’s lesson. See what the little rascal has been getting up to.

It’s one of his better days today, and it would do him some good to get some exercise; a quick check on the weather proves that it’ll remain sunny today. That cinches the decision for Charles to use his cane and walk over, no need to bring the wheelchair out, better to leave it here for now, after all he isn't even sure if the studio is fully ADA compliant.

Huh, ‘Pointes North’ Charles idly wonders just what kind of person would name a dance studio that. He’s pleased to note that there’s a ramp on the other side and that the doors are automatic as he walks in only to be hit in the face with a rather catchy, fast paced, foot-tapping tune. It’s a little too quick for little children to be performing stately and proper pliés to isn't it? 

Perhaps it was another class, after all this really didn't mesh with Charles’ idea of ballet music, which might have been a matron in front of a piano, plonking down notes while counting out the beat, demanding to see arms in position at appropriate intervals.

He follows the trail of the music to a large open room with floor to ceiling mirrors on one side while the other is made of windows letting sunlight filter in. So many children in one room - there must have been about ten of them in there - both the boys and girls dressed in little pink and black leotards. No wonder Raven approved.

There’s a flurry of dark hair jumping about in the corner that can only be Kurt and Charles can only laugh at the sheer exuberance coming from that small body.

“That’s right, come on. Shake all that nerves out,” a low baritone calls out from the front of the class, the tall man dressed in a garish red and magenta leotard that doesn't leave much to the imagination. The little voice that sounds like Raven insists that yes, while she’s very happily married to Irene, there’s no reason why she can’t look. With that, he lifts his arms above his head, kicking his feet out in little hops that the little children emulate, which really helps to emphasize his assets. Oh yes, no wonder Raven greatly approves. 

The instructor bends down low shaking his hands out to the beat of the music, “Just let loose and do what you like, almost to the last stretch now,” he calls out to the children with a wide grin as they move themselves with shrieks of laughter, jumping and sashaying about wildly as the song reaches it’s zenith and ends on a clear note, everyone of them striking a little pose - Kurt with one hand on his hip with the other on his head. Raven must be watching more of Next Top Model with him.

“Alright, that’s all for today kids,” the man claps his hands announcing the end of class. “Same time next week, I'm sure your parents are all waiting outside now.” The German accent is clearer now that he doesn't have to compete with the music, briefly he wonders how it would sound like, low and whispering dirty things to him. Right, if Charles is entertaining fantasies over his nephew’s dance instructor, it’s definitely about time for him to get laid. Not that he’ll ever admit that to Raven. He’s had enough of her match-making to last a lifetime, thank you very much.

He’s surprised by how well behaved the children are as they chorus their good byes to Mr. Lehnsherr with the girls doing perfect, little curtseys while the boys bowed; given their previous activities before grabbing their belongings and running out of class into their respective parents arms. Kurt does the same, looking around for either Raven or Irene before his eyes alight on Charles as he steps into the classroom.

“Uncle Charles!” Kurt crows before launching himself at him.

Charles bends down and catches Kurt in his arm, giving him a one-armed hug, while the other arm holds on to his cane for balance. “Hiya Kurt,” he says softly, before pulling back to ruffle the dark mop of hair, “How’s my favourite little nephew.”

“Not that little any more,” Kurt says adamantly, puffing out his chest while one hand stretches above him, miming measurements. “I've grown a full two inches that last time I saw you!”

“It’s all that stretching you've been doing here, I'm sure,” Mr. Lehnsherr says, stepping closer to them.

Charles stands to face the dance instructor who has come closer.

“Hi, I'm Charles Xavier, Raven’s brother. She couldn't make it today, so she sent me in her stead to pick up this little scamp. Please, call me Charles,” Charles introduces himself, offering his hand. Despite his immense dislike for stereotypes, Charles really, really hopes the instructor is gay. Or at least bi. And single. Very single. Anything for Charles to register on his radar.

“Ah, well, I'm Erik Lehnsherr, ballet instructor, as evidenced,” He waves his hand towards his attire and the surroundings. “You’re the illustrious brother that Raven has told me so much about. Please, call me Erik,” Erik replies as he leant forward enough for Charles to learn that his eyes were curious shade of grey and blue that changed with the amount of light; clasping Charles’ offered hand in a dry, firm handshake that sets his own palms tingling. He does not miss the man giving himself the once over.

“Right, E-rik” Charles rolls the name in his mouth, no mistaking the interested gleam in the other man’s eyes. He has to restrain himself from doing a victory jig in the room, maybe just this once he’ll forgive Raven and her match-making ways. “The last bit didn't really look like a ballet lesson?” Charles asks, eager to continue small talk with the man, perhaps segue into a offer for coffee later.

“That?” Erik rubs the back of his neck, an effort to try and hide the flush that’s slowly seeping up his neck. “That was meant for the kids to wind down. After an hour and half of nothing but stretches and repeating the same forms, they usually start to get a little antsy, so I play something fun and upbeat and get them to shake it all out.”

If Charles hadn't already been charmed by the man, this would have cinched the deal. “I would have loved to see you going through the forms,” Charles presses on, sure enough Erik starts flushing further. 

Just as he’s about to bring up the offer of coffee, a tug on his pants brings his attention back down to Kurt, “Uncle Charles, c’mon, we have mum’s brownies waiting for us at home.”

“Oh yes, quite right. Just give me a moment, “ Charles says as he digs out his phone, calling up the app to book a taxi, knowing Raven’s place is a bit further than his place and he didn't want to make an attempt walking back to her place with Kurt in hand. “Sorry about this,” he directs at Erik, who took the opportunity to recoup himself.

He looks down and ruffles Kurt’s hair again, “Taxi should be here in a few minutes, best we step outside and wait for it, yes?” Kurt gives a quick nod, hopefully content that brownies are in his near future.

“Well, we best be headed off, wouldn't like to keep the taxi waiting and all that. It was lovely meeting you, Erik,” Charles hedges as he moves towards the door, holding on to Kurt’s hand in his free hand.

“Wait, Charles” Erik calls out just as he was about to leave the door. 

Charles turns back to see Erik scribbling something on a piece of paper on the piano in the corner of the room. He thinks maybe there is an old matron who does plonk on the keys after all, before that train of thought is derailed by the sight of Erik crossing the room, those tights really doesn't leave much to the imagination does it? Oh god, Charles really hopes he isn't drooling, but Erik is already upon him before he could try to subtly check for any.

“Here,” Erik holds out the note. “My number, that is if you wanted to see my forms,” Erik says, steadily despite the blush that blooms on his face.

“Yes, definitely!” Charles accepts the note, wanting to continue further but Kurt is enthusiastically tugging on Charles’ hand, down the hallway with him babbling on about his single-minded purpose of _brownies! Waiting at home! Mr. Lehnsherr will still be here next week! While brownies! Will not wait._

“I’ll call,” Charles calls out to Erik, hoping he would understand, one does not stand in the way of one’s nephew and food, especially at this age as Kurt pulls him out of the building, just in time for the taxi to roll up to them.

Once they’re settled in, Charles takes the time to key Erik’s number into his phone. Perhaps later today, when Raven gets home, he’ll bring up the possibility of picking Kurt up regularly from ballet class. You know, to save both her and Irene the trouble. Perfectly altruistic, he reasons, ignoring the little flutter in his chest as Kurt chatters on about everything that has happened since he last saw Charles.


End file.
